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  PATIENT 3, Copyright © 2018 by Chris Chau. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews.

  FIRST EDITION

  Written by Chris Chau

  Cover by Ivan Zanchetta - bookcoversart.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any semblances of actual people, living or dead, or events are purely coincidental.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  ISBN: 9781791838621 (Paperback)

  ASIN: B07LF4PR1J (eBook)

  Add the book on Goodreads here to track your progress and see what other readers are saying . Like my page on Facebook at Chris Chau - Author, to stay up to date on new projects, Reddit AMA, (Ask me Anything) and random musings. Thank you for reading, enjoy!

  PATIENT 3

  A novel by Chris Chau

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Pins and Needles

  Until Death

  Going Under

  The Tablet

  Rise and Shine

  Eve’s Audio Journal: Part 1

  En Route

  Seven

  Eve’s Audio Journal: Part 2

  Holding Pattern

  Eve’s Audio Journal: Part 3

  Onward

  All is Fair

  Someone Familiar

  Just Beyond the Horizon

  Homecoming

  -Redacted Files-

  -Redacted Files 2-

  Second Act

  Briefing

  Smile

  Rise and Hide

  Snatched

  Cue to Go

  Wasteland of Forking Paths

  Re-Entry

  -Redacted Files 3-

  Trials and Tribulations

  Author’s Note

  Prologue

  A 1998 NASA photo of “space debris” taken from the STS-88 mission is theorized by some to be the ‘Black Knight’ satellite that has been lingering in Earth’s orbit for thousands of years. Conspiracy theorists believe it to be of extraterrestrial origin, a probe that has been watching over our planet for all these years, sending signals back to an unknown source.

  October of 2017, unidentified astrological object, ‘Oumuamua’ decelerates before entering our solar system and exits in an unpredictable path at increased velocity that defies Newtonian physics. The object showed no signs of a comet tail. It can only be described as an asteroid that may have originated in the Vega constellation by scientists.

  March of 2018, footage of a United States Navy pilot’s encounter with an unidentified flying object in 2015 is declassified and released to the Stars Academy of Arts and Science. In the video, the pilot pursues the object in an F/A-18 Super Hornet, the encounter is recorded with an infrared camera. The object accelerates at a speed the fighter jet is unable to match to continue the pursuit. The object did not have any plumes or exhaust trails, the pilot and weapons operator aboard the fighter are baffled. The United States Department of Defense has declined to comment on the video since its release.

  February 27, 2025, during routine software maintenance at NASA Mission Control, the Mars 2020 Rover, Raider II, and Pathfinder III camera feeds are supposedly hacked by activists. Images of possible alien structures on the planet emerge online and go viral. NASA and the Homeland Security claims it is nothing more than a hoax filled doctored images in a poor attempt at a publicity stunt.

  The result of the lost signal was reportedly due to an atmospheric storm that destroyed the feed to the unmanned vehicles. Government officials vehemently deny the authenticity of the images. The activists were labeled as actors who fabricated the images to appear on several interviews posted online as a hoax that went too far… the ‘actors’ were never heard from or seen again.

  June 6, 2028, the last major military battle ends in the Middle East with the exception of small isolated skirmishes throughout the region. Oil is no longer a sought after precious resource as the majority of urban areas across the world are relying more heavily on renewable sources of energy, particularly solar. The world’s elite fund all major solar energy projects in the developing world. Humanity recognizes the global threat of increased levels of carbon emissions and work together to reverse its effect.

  January 21, 2029, the All Nations Treaty is signed at The Hague in the Netherlands to end all major conflicts including any unresolved ceasefires to officially become recognized as peace treaties. As a result, every individual nation is forced to severely reduce their standing armies by eighty percent and the All Nations Initiative (A.N.I.) is formed as a global peacekeeping force.

  Their aim is focused on maintaining the peace and ensuring the safe transport of food and water to an ever increasing population at each of their posts spanning across all continents. The United States, Russia, China, and North Korea are the last countries to sign the monumental treaty.

  September 23, 2032, the A.N.I. experiences a change of leadership and undergoes further military spending cuts, from the reduction in force, arms, R&D, and even the health benefits of its soldiers. For the first time in recorded history, humanity has nearly achieved global peace.

  Due to the global reduction in military spending and rising fears we may outgrow our planet within a century, humanity has pooled its intellectual and financial resources to once again look to the stars. Funds are diverted to the International Space Program to reinvigorate exploration outside of our solar system to learn more about our place in the galaxy and possibly a search for intelligent life and perhaps a new home.

  The first manned, international mission to Mars to experiment new terraforming methods is set for the spring of 2034. There have been no new confirmed extraterrestrial occurrences since the ‘Oumuamua’ asteroid event in October of 2017…

  Pins and Needles

  “Alright Michael, I’m done with your vitals, the doctor should be with you shortly to go over your test results. Do you have any family nearby?”

  “Yeah… My fiancée is on her way over, why?”

  “Excellent.” The nurse wraps the stethoscope around her neck, gives a nervous smile as she turns towards the door. The chatter in the hallway and the swishing of her scrubs cease as the door closes behind her.

  Such an ominous question to ask and have me stewing here, analyzing what it could possibly mean as I wait for the doctor to return. If it were good news, she would have told me then and there, right? I replay the conversation in my head and focus on her body language, stress levels in her speech, and facial expressions while she was examining me to see if I could guess what kind of news I would be getting. There is nothing to glean from our interaction. She was straightforward and didn’t say much other than the necessary words to instruct me to maneuver my body to get my readings during the examination.

  The silence in the room became deafening once the voices and the footsteps in the hallway faded. I could hear every single drop of water drip from the faucet as each one pools up into a large droplet, dangling from the faucet head until its own weight becomes too heavy to support itself and it releases its grip and crashes down onto the sink’s hard metallic surface in a gentle splash, shattering into several smaller drops. The cycle continues as I watch, except now faster; or at least it seems that way as I notice my left foot nervously tapping on the footrest of the examination table.

  The next droplet forms and follows the same fate as the droplets before it, my heart beat thumping in my chest feels like it is keeping pace with the drops, matching each splash when it explodes in the sink on contact. I take a look at my
watch and come to the realization that only two minutes have passed since the nurse stepped out.

  There isn’t much to do in here other than stare at the most blandest paintings under the flickering fluorescent lights above. As jubilantly colorful as they are, the pamphlets about washing my hands, covering my face when I cough, or wearing a seatbelt when I get into a car didn’t pique my interest enough to pull from the shelf and read. My phone is in my footlocker back at the barracks. Naturally, watching and listening to water slowly drip out of the faucet has captivated my attention as I’m on edge, eagerly awaiting the doctor’s return.

  I’ve never been a fan of doctors since my adolescence. Going to the doctor’s office if I wasn’t sick or hurt either meant it was time to get my physical checkup for high school sports only a few years ago, or what I dreaded most, getting routine vaccine shots when I was younger. I was so bad at taking shots that even bribes of ice cream and candy from my mom and dad never worked. It was always a distraction that got me, where I would have a conversation with the nurse while the doctor hit me with the needle.

  It never felt excruciatingly painful, but the thoughts of needles leading up to the shot were the root of my anxiety. The moment the doctor holds up the vial to the light to extract a precise amount of medication is still the most terrifying part to me as it meant impending doom to childhood me.

  I look down at my socks as my feet dangle and swing from the sterile table, further reminding me of the presence of my inner child, and dreading the return of the doctor, now, and like I did before. Footsteps outside the closed door start out faint and begin to grow louder as the person walking approaches my room.

  The steps sound like they’re getting closer and closer until they stop. I can’t make out the muffled words the man on the other side of the door is saying to another person down the hall, he finally stops talking, two gentle knocks thud on the wooden door. About a half second delay, the handle twists and the door inches open until a man with peppered hair pokes his head in.

  Doctor White walks through the door. Ever since I was a kid, I never could tell from reading the faces of authority if they were going to give me good or bad news. Whether the teacher told me that she wanted to see me before recess, or if the cop would be returning with a ticket after running my plates and registration, or in this case, a doctor looking over my test results. I never knew what to expect.

  Today is no different, other than the fact that life as I know it could change forever when he finishes his spiel. After going through the battery of tests, they were definitely looking for something pretty serious and specific. The A.N.I. doesn’t willy-nilly send its soldiers to the doctor’s office to perform all sorts of expensive tests unless they think something is seriously wrong.

  If he gives me good news, I would have a new lease on life, live it to the fullest, and try my best to remember not to take it for granted for the rest of my days. Each time I hold my fiancée Eve, I would be present in each moment I get with her and make special note to the little things that make her laugh and smile; the way she feels when we hug from when our faces touch to the extra little squeeze at the end right before she breaks away.

  Without a word, the doctor shuts the door behind him, eyes fixated on whatever it is that he is reading on the clipboard with a laptop tucked at his side. He plops down on his chair and starts typing on the laptop for a few seconds until he speaks, “Sorry to keep you waiting Michael, tell me again the symptoms you were having again, up until you ended up here in my office, in your own words. Start with what was happening a few minutes before the episode started.”

  I go from being tense to relaxed, my shoulders come to rest. No matter what he tells me, he won’t be able to say it until I’m done talking. “Yes sir, we were at the firing range this afternoon. I was prone on my stomach on the ground in full gear, ears, and eyes protection, sending some rounds down range with no issues sir. All of a sudden, my hands crinkle and seize up into a claw, I couldn’t grip the rifle, nor could I let go of it, it was the strangest feeling. A few seconds later, I had trouble breathing. I finally got my hands off my rifle but I still couldn’t move my fingers to pop off my helmet, so I used my shoulders to swing and roll over onto my back and motioned both my wrists over my throat so that someone or the Sarge could see I was in trouble. I could barely breathe and my legs wouldn’t work.”

  Doctor White stares intently at his laptop as he mashes away on his keyboard while I spoke and a few more seconds after. I pause from my story to have a sip of water to give the doctor a chance to catch up on his notes as I can see the keyboard cursor still racing across the screen and filling it with words from the reflection of his rectangular glasses. He finally stops and looks back up at me, indicating to continue my story.

  “Next thing I know, a couple of guys in my platoon are tossing me onto a stretcher and loading me into the back of a Humvee to transport me to the aid station. By the time we arrive, mostly everything is back to normal. I start breathing fine again and I can easily clench my hands into a fist and open them up to spread my fingers as far as they can go. At that point, I was able to get off the stretcher and hop out of the vehicle on my own.

  The guard on duty came up to me and asked me for my name to get checked in… but I couldn’t remember for the life of me. I remember looking down at my uniform but couldn’t make out the words. The guard gave me a puzzled look, glanced at my uniform and scribbled it down on the clipboard and instructed me to follow him. After a few short minutes of examination, the medic sent me here to the hospital. I haven’t experienced ANY of those symptoms for at least an hour now.”

  “Do you know your name now?”

  “Michael Walker”

  The Doc continues to hammer away on his laptop even though I’ve already stopped talking for about a minute. I can’t contain my nervousness so I start to twiddle my thumbs. My focus is trained on the doctor, awaiting the news he’s about to deliver. Finally, Doctor White stops typing, turns his chair to directly face me and places both his hands on his lap. He takes a breath.

  “There’s no easy way to say this Michael, but after the battery of tests we ran on you and what you’ve just told me, it is clear that you have Cerebral Nervorum, or CN. It’s that rare neurological disorder that you might have heard about over the last few months, we still have no idea what the root cause of it is.”

  As he is delivering the news, I bury my face in my hands before interlocking my fingers on the back of my head, and resting my elbows on my lap. I know full well what happens to these people.

  Doctor White continues, “What you have experienced today is how it starts, which is why you were given priority for all of these tests. Within twenty-four hours of the first signs of symptoms, dexterity and basic motor functions will rapidly deteriorate. Within forty-eight hours you’ll experience severe short-term memory loss and basic motor functions will be completely gone. From there, without any breathing assistance devices… complete respiratory failure.

  Researchers believe it to be a prion-based disease, similar to mad cow. We are learning so much about this every day that passes. What we do know is that increased brain activity causes the disease to spread and accelerate. About one in fifty thousand of the world’s population is getting diagnosed with it, but it’s not contagious. There is no cure yet, but there are a few treatment options.”

  If there isn’t a cure, I can only imagine what my options are… things that keep me, “comfortable” when the time comes. I ask the doctor as a formality, “What are my options?”

  “I see on your chart that you’re a Private First Class, assuming you don’t have any millionaire family members that are willing to foot the six-figure cost per month treatment for CRISPR… Clustered Regularly Interspaced Short Palindromic Repeats gene editing therapy… which isn’t covered by our insurance due to the spending cuts that were passed a few years ago by the way, you only have three real options.

  One, we’ll keep you as comfortable as possible wi
th pain medication and let nature run its course given you sign a DNR, Do Not Resuscitate, order that allows us to keep you off of an IV drip and life support. Two, we can keep you in hospice care where your short-term memory faculties will be severely reduced and all of your basic motor functions such as walking, talking, eating, etcetera will be gone within a week, but we’ll keep you on a respirator to keep you alive.”

  “Well Doc, I’m glad you led off with the good stuff, I’m not sure if the third option could possibly be any better than these… please tell me, satisfy my curiosity.” The doctor is not amused by my coping mechanism of sarcasm. He gives me a blank stare, without breaking eye contact or blinking, he continues right where he left off.

  “The third option, which is the most popular option, is to put you into a medically induced coma. This forces the disease to come to a grinding halt due to the drastic drop in brain activity. This is simply a bandage for the problem; as I said earlier, we are learning so much about the disease that we expect a more permanent and affordable treatment in the near future.

  Again, most of this isn’t going to be covered by your insurance since this is a new rare disease that insurance companies aren’t hopping on board with, especially ours… but the price is much more manageable than CRISPR. What most hospitals are doing to keep costs down is housing the patients in low traffic areas of the hospitals with a nurse on rotation for the whole level to monitor basic vitals, change out IV’s, move patients to prevent bed sores, and provide other basic care.”

  I reluctantly nod in agreeance for option three. It’s not even a choice I’m being presented here. Doctor White reaches into his lab coat and pulls out a brochure for Harbor Point Medical Center and tells me, “Page three shows you their treatment packages for Cerebral Nervorum depending on your budget. I’ll leave these here with you for you to go over. It is highly recommended that you make your decision within the next couple of hours before the disease spreads any further.